


Venom in My Veins, Poison in My Brain

by DeathDirt



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, HOW TO TITLE, M/M, Past Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Reaper Doesnt Like Talking, and for the love of fucking jesus, and then angst, and then fluff-fluff-fluffllllllles, be excited people, chapter one is mostly fluff, chapter two is some back story for relationship, dont make this into a ship war, emotional issues, third chapter is some battlefield stuff and then some emotional upheaval
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 18:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11446722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathDirt/pseuds/DeathDirt
Summary: Ten years can take a lot out of a relationship. But when one partner is immortal and the other has the patience of a mountain, ten years is a drop in the bucket.





	Venom in My Veins, Poison in My Brain

**Author's Note:**

> I like... This is just gonna be my go-to thing for a while. Don't hate me for it. I believe in the philosophy of 'ship and let ship' so like... Don't get bent outta shape over this. And if you do, hey. Don't read it. Leave me alone.
> 
> Seriously, it takes less effort to NOT read this and NOT make a mean hateful comment than it does to do those things.
> 
> Also 3 chapters because I can.

"I'm not being difficult."

"I never said you were."

"You implied-"

"Gabriel, when do I _imply_ words with you? That is reserved for the politicians."

"I feel better already..."

... "Something happened again."

"...Yeah."

"Do you want me to leave it alone?"

"Yes and no." Akande fought the urge to put his head in his hands. He and Gabe had been up for almost an hour, doing nothing but cuddling (as couples should after being apart for the better of ten years) until Gabe began to squirm around and generally give signs that he wanted to talk. Akande knew that he really did, but the dead man was too reluctant to make himself vulnerable, even now. It'd always been that way; both of them knew why, so neither brought it up.

"Why both?" Gabriel huffed, burying his face in his (supposed) leader's neck to try and hide. He always wanted to avoid these things rather than bring them up. It was easier. Something he knew how to do. Yet Akande had an uncanny way of bringing them to the light. "Because for one thing," Gabe began, voice muffled under the weight of his body, "it hasn't exactly proven to be a good idea in the past to keep everything quiet. But on the other hand-" He pulled his head up, flicking away some annoying strands of his own dark hair and briefly wished he'd just keep it buzzed like he used to. "-talking about every little thing that fucks with me is going to require a few years to go through the list." 

Akande snorted a laugh, carding his smaller flesh hand through Gabriel's hair. He loved how it'd grown out. "I take it back. You are _exceedingly_ difficult." Gabe huffed, lightly bumping the side of his gloved fist on Akande's gorgeously naked chest. "Fuck you," he mumbled, without any real bite. Never would he be able to really and truly get angry at this man, if only for the fact that he nearly forced communication between them for Reaper's sake. Better than being completely ignored and brushed aside when he actually felt like letting himself go.

"I'd liken you to a teenager some days, Gabriel."

"Ass. Hole."

"I remember the first day you finally managed to bring your nanites together. Every little thing made you upset. Initially it was almost aggravating, but looking back it was quite endearing." Gabe grumbled, burying his face back into Akande's chest. He hoped he couldn't give off heat when he blushed. "Of all things, it was the uniform. You snapped at anyone who tried to clothe you until you got so irritated that you didn't realize you'd manifested your old one on. Tears and burns and all." Through some small effort, the larger man is able to drag Gabe's head back with a light grip in his hair (he's always loved that) and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "And then you nearly killed us all before making your current uniform."

Gabriel chuckled, clawed fingertips dancing in meaningless patterns across Akande's chest. "It's not _my_ fault you didn't tell me anything. Self-defense,   
_cariño_. You didn't trap me for ten hours in a Russian rich man's safety bunker for nothing, though...did you?" Ah yes. That first time seeing the legendary Doomfist, Akande Ogundimu. At that time, Gabe had heard rumors, but nothing more, and thought nothing of it. As soon as he saw the man himself, though, any and all manner of the Blackwatch team he'd left behind was gone.

Not to mention Jack. His stupid ass, barely seemed affected when Gabe had to go tell him why the whole team showed up a day later than expected. 

Fucking kiss-ass.

"If this is any indication," Akande gestured vaguely to the room around them, "I'd hope that question needs no answering." _Fuck no._ Not at all. If it wouldn't make him look like a hopelessly desperate teenager, Gabriel would've been happy to just smash mouths together all night, but... "The...thing that happened."

"Finally talking?" Some kind of barrier was what Gabe wanted right now. His mask. Something to make him at least... _seem_ less upset. He loosed a short, breathy laugh, followed by silence. "Fucking Morrison. I'm one to talk, sure, but if dead men could just fucking stay dead..." Gabe was forcing himself not to gouge the giant gauntlet that made up Akande's right arm. No matter what, he just...this one person in his life. He couldn't fuck up. "He's just...a damned idiot. Keeps trying to track me down, fucking tries talking to me, and he doesn't get it. The hell I went through once. I don't care if he hides that face, I can't think of anything else."

"And is that why...?" _And is that why you haven't killed him yet for what he did to you?_ They've had this conversation before. Not recently, of course, but they've had it. What happened? Isn't Jack Morrison dead? Are you alright? Do you need to stay off the field? What can I do to help you?

That last one, especially. Jack hadn't been entirely blind to what happened, he just never did anything about it. Never talked about how the UN constantly blamed Blackwatch. Never talked about how Gabriel was unable to sleep because of the shit he'd seen in the field that day. Never talked about the recruits that Gabe had actually started referring to as his 'kids' that never went home because they were fucking black ops. Never talked about how he'd gone from leading the world out of the Omnic Crisis to a murderous traitor in a fortnight. Damn it. They never talked unless it was to argue over what needed done and why Gabe was being so temperamental every day.

Gabriel shuddered a sigh out of his mouth, and pressed closer to the comfort of his mostly-naked bedmate. "Yeah. Me and my fucking... _issues_." It was like the very phrase, 'mental health', was poison. Though it probably was. From the very moment he'd spotted him, Akande knew that Gabe was not going to be a man that let things go lightly, even things as petty and trivial as what he'd worn to bed the night before. He was almost the same now as he was then - rough, strong, stable to a point, until he stopped directing himself outward. That was his...quote-unquote problem. If he lost focus on the targets outside, he'd turn his guns on the demons inside. Which had more control than Gabe ever would or wanted to admit.

Well enough. Akande, against the advice of more or less every other leader in Talon's council, loved him regardless. He looked down, almost sighed when he saw that Gabriel had pulled his hood over his head and hunkered into a crouching ball. "Don't concern yourself over it, Gabriel. Morrison has had his chance, hasn't he?" A low mumbled "Yeah" with some slight shifting. "He decided to waste it. Yes?" Gabe nodded silently, nestling himself into the comforting crevice of the larger body. "Then it is his loss."

It was. All on Jack. 

But Jack wasn't the one who was a dead man walking, was he?

**Author's Note:**

> This title was meant for a Widowmaker-centric fic...
> 
> Feel free to use w/ or w/o credit if you do that kind of thing.


End file.
